Absolutely Nothing's Changed
by pepsicolagurl
Summary: [Sequel to Everything's Changed] Their long past and stubborn attitudes could make most people give up. But most people aren't a meddlesome teenager. [Added Chapter 8, October 19th, 2002]
1. 01- You're Finally Here And I'm A Mess

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for some language content  
  
Notes- Besides the standard disclaimer that I own nothing (except original characters), have nothing to do with the actual show, production, etc., and that I'm making absolutely no money (which really hurts me)? Well, the song title is taken from the Pearl Jam song, "Corduroy", part of the line, "Everything has changed, absolutely nothing's changed." All chapter titles are taken from the same song, or are portions of a line in the song. And this is the sequel to "Everything's Changed." You don't have to read the story to really understand this one, but there are a few things that you might not be clear on if you don't. And now on with our regularly scheduled programming.  
  
Chapter One  
// You're finally here, and I'm a mess //  
  
'Wish you were here. That sounds cheesy. Actually, I don't. You'd stop me from trying to fit Marcus in my suitcase, too. Details when we get back. But I miss you. Does that count? Oh, and add this to the collection.'  
  
Sara Sidle laughed when she read the back of the colorful postcard, trying to work her way through the teenager's messy writing. The sentiment was nice, the words were cute, and the picture on the front of it...well, she could only wish that someone would take her to Oahu, like the girl's father had taken her. And she would add it to the collection of postcards that she had already gotten from her. Some of them, the ones that showed more beautiful and desirable places, had been tacked onto a piece of cork board above her desk, but there were a lot in the desk drawer. She had traveled a lot when she was younger, but she was still jealous of the teenager.  
  
Pictures of the usual tourist destinations in France, a snow covered mountain in Colorado, the New York skyline at night, and the sunny beaches of Florida usually glared a hole through her, letting her know that even if she took time for vacations, she wouldn't visit half of the places that Anastasia Grissom-Davidson had been to. A seventeen year old that now had a mission to tour the world, and Sara was lucky if she would get a chance to leave town.  
  
There was one spot left open on the cork board for one more postcard, and as long as she positioned it right, it wouldn't cover one of the postcards from France (one of many, actually) that had one of the most beautiful fountains on the cover.   
  
Stepping back when she was done, she surveyed the board and shook her head, wondering if this is what her life had come to. She was still young, still had a lot of life ahead of her...and she rarely left her apartment. Anastasia, wise beyond her years, had told her numerous times that she was cute enough to have men lining up at her door and fighting each other just to date her. But cute was for puppies and she sure as hell didn't see a sign that said "line forms here" outside. If anything, the sign said, "keep away, vicious dog on property."  
  
It wasn't long before her parody of a life would begin again. Lunch and dinner with Anastasia at whatever restaurant they chose, maybe even coffee with her father...but what kind of life was that? It really was a parody of one. Sometimes, she wished that she could go back to her younger days, when she had been baby-sitting the girl instead of giving her advice about life and love (and what a joke that was). Back when she could actually get a date, and all she had to worry about was not being out too late so that she could wake up in time for classes. A lot had changed since then, for all three of them.   
  
Three lives had been violently changed because of one afternoon, and two of them were moving on. So why was Sara, the least connected of them all, still stuck where she was a few years ago?  
  
**********  
  
"I still can't believe that you're going in to work tonight. We just got off the plane, and you're already obsessing about it. How do you know? Maybe no one wants to die tonight," she said, crossing her arms as she looked out the window to the passing traffic. Her eyes passed an accident on the side of the road and let out a low whistle. "My bad."  
  
"Did...you just say that you're bad?"  
  
Her eyes rolled as she leaned back in her seat. "No, Dad, I said...never mind, you wouldn't get it anyway. You know, one of these days, I'm going to make out a list of slang words and phrases so that you actually know what I'm saying."  
  
He looked over at her briefly, before turning away with a smile. "The generation gap has never been more apparent." Pausing, he took a moment to shrug before making the vehicle round the corner. "My bad."  
  
"Ugh," she protested from the seat beside him. "You need a life, Dad. Screwing around with your daughter's mind is not supposed to be quality entertainment." A wondrous look went over her face as she turned towards him, her eyes shining with excitement. "No, do you know what you need? You need to go out on a date with someone. And I'm not talking about a date where you pay in advance for her services," she added with a teasing tone, falling back into her seat. "That's not such a bad idea."  
  
"Anastasia...thank you, but no." Sighing, she picked a thread off of her jeans and looked at it curiously before dropping it on the floor. She pushed her lips out in a pout and looked towards him every now and then, trying to see if it was working or not. "That hasn't worked since you were three and I felt so bad about it that I went out and got you the biggest container of ice cream that I could find."  
  
She snapped her fingers in dismay. "Well, it was worth a shot, and I thank you profusely for the ice cream all those years ago, because back then, I probably just said, 'Mine, mine'. But I'm serious here. Getting a life equals a chick, and a chick equals getting a life. A win-win situation. Don't you love it when everything turns out that way?"  
  
Gil Grissom opened his mouth to say something before looking over at her again and shaking his head. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are the same person that attacked a stranger just last week for saying the word 'chick', aren't you?"  
  
"I'm a woman, therefore I can say that, but guys aren't allowed."  
  
"You're a girl, and you almost had that man in tears when you were through with him."  
  
Shrugging, she looked away. "All part of my charm. No, really, just listen to me here. Like any other person that has a single parent, I did some checking around, and I think I found the perfect person for you. I've weighed all the-"  
  
"When does school start again?" he asked, breaking her off.  
  
"Uh...three weeks. Why?"  
  
"Just wondering when I was going to get a little peace and quiet. That's all." He caught the look on her face and smiled. "Anastasia, thank you. Really. But I don't think so." He stopped the vehicle before driving into the garage and nodded towards her door. "Go ahead and go in. I'll bring in your bags."  
  
She released her seat belt and opened her door. "Do I have to give you a tip for that? Either way, I will. Just one date with this person will make you change your mind," she said confidently before slipping out and slamming the door, heading towards the stairs before pausing and looking up at the sky. "Mom, and I know you can hear me, a little help would be appreciated. If I have to go as far as picking out his clothes and actually setting him and Sara up, so help me God, I will. They're perfect for each other, and one day, he'll see the light."   
  
A deep sigh sounded from her as she dug around for her house keys. "I just hope that I'm not thirty by that time."  
  
**********  
  
Sara rubbed her eyes as she walked by, before pausing and looking back into the empty office. The only difference was that it wasn't so empty at the moment. "What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly, standing in the doorway. "I thought your flight came in tonight."  
  
"It did," Grissom said, looking at her. "Spend two weeks with Anastasia, and you'd understand why I'm here. You don't sound too good."  
  
She shrugged and walked in a little further. "The wonders of a summer cold. It's been going around. Nick, then Catherine, and now me." Her eyes narrowed as she examined him. "I'm impressed. You actually have a tan. You left the hotel room?"  
  
He opened his mouth to say something, before shaking his head and trying something else. "I was running after her for most of the vacation. Never let a hormonally driven teenager go to the beach. She offered some boy twenty dollars if he would come back with us in her suitcase."  
  
"He wouldn't have made it past customs," she added helpfully. "That must have been the Marcus that she wrote about. How was-" She paused to sneeze, before continuing. "How was Oahu, anyway? I've always wanted to go there."  
  
Ignoring her question, he took another look at her. "Maybe you should go home. You don't look so good."  
  
"Thanks, I needed that," she said sarcastically. "I'm fine, but your concern is appreciated. A cold isn't the end of the world."  
  
A doubtful look crossed his face when he saw her more pale than usual skin, and the darker areas under her eyes. She wouldn't admit to it, but he could see that the virus was affecting her more than it normally would have. "You look exhausted, Sara. I'm serious about this. Go home and get some rest. You'll do no good here if you're tired and sneezing on bodies."  
  
She frowned, crossing her arms. "I think I can control myself. And if you want me to leave, you'd have to pick me up and carry me out of here, all right? I'm staying," she told him before sneezing once more. "I know what you're going to say, so let me stop you before you begin. I really don't want to hear it. It's not like I'm going to contaminate anyone. It's going around, and if they haven't got it yet, they will. Or are you more concerned about me contaminating a crime scene?"  
  
"Actually, yes," he began. "I could very easily stop you and make you work in the lab, but I'm worried that you'll miss something in the condition that you're in. If it comes down to it, I will call Nick and Warrick to escort you out, and they'll have no problem with it."  
  
She huffed angrily, slamming a piece of paper down on his desk. "You want me out of here so badly? Fine, I'm leaving." Turning on her heel, she stalked out of his office before turning to look at him a final time. "By the way, welcome back," she added bitterly, immediately heading towards the exit to sign out and drive back to her apartment. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she had no choice.  
  
It wasn't like she was that sick to begin with, she reasoned with herself as she stopped at the front desk and checked her watch to write down the time that she was leaving. It was nothing more than a cold, but Grissom was acting like it was the plague or something. So she sneezed a few times, that was nothing. Both Catherine and Nick had worked their regular shifts when they had been sick, and no one had said a word.  
  
She thanked the receptionist and walked out of the building, shaking her head. It looked like it was going to be long night filled with cold medication and boredom. Just what she had wanted. 


	2. 02- Can't Let You Roam Inside My Head

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language and violence  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as before.   
  
  
Chapter Two  
// Can't let you roam inside my head //  
  
  
"You look...well, to put it bluntly, you look like crap, and you don't sound that great. Are you sure that you're not going to infect me, because school starts up soon."  
  
Sara rolled her eyes at the teenager. "Like father, like daughter. You're both blowing this way out of proportion. A cold is no big thing. I'm not dying-"  
  
Anastasia broke her off with a bright grin. "But you work at the right place if you were to die. Got to look at the positive side, Sara."  
  
"And yet," she continued as if she had never spoken. "Your father feels the need to threaten to have me 'escorted' out. He was more concerned about me contaminating something, than actually concerned about my being sick." Sara raised a hand to stop the teenager from saying anything. "Wait, I know what you're going to do. You were going to throw my words right back at me, right? It's just a cold."  
  
She smiled sympathetically as she listened to her stuffy voice, and sipped her tea before answering. "Well...no. I wasn't going to say that. What I was going to say was-" She stopped and gasped theatrically. "He didn't. You're kidding me. That's a total shock."  
  
"You're patronizing me."  
  
Anastasia nodded seriously. "You don't think I knew that? Of course I did, but it took you awhile to pick up on it. You must really be sick, because you usually jump the second I sound patronizing. But Sara, you're preaching to the wrong person here. I know better than anyone that Dad can be a jerk sometimes. Everyone has their moments, including you and me. But he also has his good moments. They used to be few and far between and now they come more often." Sara wondered for a few seconds when the girl had tried to sound so serious and intelligent before but then she opened her mouth again. "Freaky, huh?" That was much better, she thought.  
  
"Maybe the vacation has been good for the two of you. You sound like you got a little closer than you were before, but I still don't think that it was all that fair that he kicked me out. It was almost like he was scolding me and then sending me to my room." Sara sighed and fought back a sneeze.  
  
"Okay, Miss Investigator, let's examine the facts, shall we? Stop me if I get anything wrong." She cleared her throat and sipped her drink before beginning again. "Number one, Daddy Dearest, who happens to be upstairs snoring and is unavailable for comment or a blood sample, is your boss, in a manner of speaking. And what does a boss do? Gee, I don't know, but I think it involves telling people what to do." A mischievous look entered her eyes. "Am I right so far?"  
  
Again, her eyes rolled. "I can't believe I'm sitting through this."  
  
"And I can't believe that I actually have to explain this to you. I thought you were smart, but there's more, so shut up and listen. Number two, you really are sick and you're a workaholic. I bet that, if you were pregnant and you had gone into labour in the lab you wouldn't leave until you checked each and every fingerprint that you were working on. Now, don't say that it's not true. Maybe a little over-exaggerated, but close enough. Do you have anything to say before I continue?"  
  
"Just that you've confirmed my thoughts that you're crazy."  
  
The teenager grinned and looked away as if she was blushing. "I thought you'd never notice, but honestly, how else do you explain the therapist? Anyway, onto the next point. Number Three, like I said, Dad can be a jerk, but I bet he just used the contamination excuse so that he wouldn't seem like he was concerned about you." She stopped and waited for Sara to say something. "Uh...this is where you go, 'Oh, really? I didn't know that, Ana. You're so smart,' just so that I can thank you and take a bow."  
  
Her head shook as she laughed quietly. "You need medication more than I do, and that's the second time that you've called him a jerk."  
  
"I realize that, but I also took the time to point out that, despite popular belief, Dad does have a heart, and he can be a sweetheart...if you catch him on a good day, or if I ask for help on my science homework. Speaking of which-"  
  
Sara stopped her before she could go any further. "No, hold on a second. I've never heard you defend Grissom this much before. What are you up to?"  
  
Her eyes widened, giving her an innocent look. It wasn't a very good one, but she was still trying. "What? I'm not up to anything, and I take offense to the fact that you think I'm up to something. In fact, I'm up to nothing at all, as little sense as that makes."  
  
"Deny it once, and the other person believes you. Deny it more than once, and the person's assumption is confirmed. You just gave yourself away, Ana." She grinned and shook her finger at her before sneezing. "Nice try, though."  
  
"Thank you for infesting my precious breathing space," Anastasia said with a frown. "Personally, I think that theory is full of crap. You can't prove anything, and if you could, I'd deny it anyway. Can we drop this now, because you're making me feel guilty when I haven't done anything. I hate it when you do that to me. I'd probably confess to killing JFK right now, thanks to you."  
  
"No problem," she told her, before coughing a few times. "So, what was it that you were going to say before?"  
  
A blank look covered Anastasia's face as she tried to remember what it was. Finally, she smiled. "Right. I have a favor to ask of you. I need to do some shopping before school starts, and could you really see Dad taking me? I wanted to know if you'd come with me, because shopping alone...sucks. I'll throw in a free lunch," she added when she saw the doubtful look on the brunette's face. "Please. I know you hate shopping, and you hate clothes...and crowds...okay, I have a lot working against me, but I'd really appreciate it."  
  
Looking away, Sara stayed silent for a long time, considering the offer of a free meal, and then looked back at her. "So, we were talking about your dad, right?"  
  
"Horrible change of subject, but we were really talking about my dad's good points. Now, the real mystery is...what all those good points are. Tell me, Sara, can you name one?"  
  
She laughed. "In the mood I'm in, no."  
  
"Then allow me. My therapist told me before I went away that I was supposed to count my blessings. I can't believe that my shrink is giving out homework assignments, but whatever." She took a moment to think about what to say before laughing. "Wow, it's harder than I thought, but I'm an ignorant teenager and...I can do this. I think."  
  
"Should I start humming the theme from Jeopardy?"  
  
Anastasia smirked, shaking her head. "No, but thanks for the offer. I'm ready to begin and be prepared to be stunned by these revelations, even if I start with the obvious. Intelligence is always good and Dad's at the Einstein level...without being crazy."  
  
"You're right, that's obvious. Got something else for me?"  
  
Her head shook. "Nope. I exhausted all of his good points already." With a giggle, she played with the handle of her mug of tea and shifted in her seat. "I'm kidding. You want another good point? Even I can say this, believe it or not, but my father happens to be...excuse me while I shudder at this point...somewhat handsome. He turned quite a few heads on the island, and yet, he's single. Figure that."  
  
A knowing look covered Sara's face as she began to understand what she was getting at. "Oh, no, you don't. You can forget about it right now. I knew you were up to something."  
  
Her mouth dropped open, acting shocked about being accused. "I swear that I'm not trying anything. I was just naming Dad's good points, and you had nothing against it until...why did you get so defensive when I brought up those last two points?"  
  
"I didn't," she answered quickly. "But I recognize that calculating tone of voice, and I know that whatever you're planning can't be any good. Don't forget how well I know you."  
  
"Excuse me?" she squeaked. "I don't sound calculating."  
  
Sara grinned, watching her squirm. It was more entertainment than she could imagine. "You're right. Now you sound incredibly guilty. What are you up to, anyway? Tell me the truth."  
  
The teenager looked away, towards the window. "Well, if you must know, before we left, Dad told me that he'd never teach me to drive, and wouldn't you know it, the cute one was standing there and offered to take me out a few times to get me ready for my road test." She sighed with a smile. "I can't wait. To answer your question, I'm going to learn how to drive."  
  
"The cute...Ana, you do realize that Nick is many years older than you?"  
  
"But he's cute," she defended herself. "That accent does me in every time, and hey, if he's willing to teach me how to drive, I'm not going to complain about sharing the same breathing space as him for awhile. And don't you dare tell Dad. He'd never let me if he knew. I'm seventeen, this is normal."  
  
She shook her head. "You're not normal, but you're avoiding the subject. I'll say it one more time, and if you don't answer me, I'll tell Grissom about it next time I see him."  
  
Frowning, she looked over at her. "It's nothing big. I'm just trying to convince Dad to maybe...date someone. It's not like it's a crime or anything, and I figured that you might be able to help me out a little. Maybe know of some possible candidates to add to the list? I've only got one name on it right now, and it's the one that I'm banking on, but you never know what you can come up with."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
**********  
  
Rubbing her eyes, she looked towards the offending piece of technology, before sighing and reaching for the phone. "Hello?" she asked, looking towards the clock. It wasn't often that she slept at a normal time, but the cold medication was really starting to knock her out.   
  
"Sara, it's me."  
  
Short and not too sweet. Even if she hadn't recognized the voice, it could have only been one person. "I figured that much, Grissom. What do you need?"  
  
"I need to know if you were planning on coming in to work tonight."  
  
Rolling her eyes, she fell back against the pillows. "You kicked me out of there yesterday, and now you want to know if I'm coming in today? Is there some miracle cure for the cold that you've heard of and I haven't?" She was greeted with a long pause. "No, I'm not. I'm still sick, and I wouldn't want to contaminate anything," she added in a mocking tone.  
  
"I sent you home for one night. You didn't say anything about taking off more than that."  
  
Why did she suddenly have a strange desire to throw the phone towards the wall, she wondered. Not that it would do any good. She still had a cell phone, and knowing him like she did, he would call her on that and wonder why the line was disconnected, not that the loud bang that the phone would make when it hit the wall would be any concern. "Let me get this straight. You can take off two weeks to go island hopping, but I'm sick and can't take off two nights? I...I'm not going to be in tonight. I'll be in tomorrow. I'm sure that you can deal until then."  
  
Hanging up the phone, she buried back underneath the covers and stared at the wall for a moment. "How Ana's going to find someone to deal with him, I'll never know." 


	3. 03- I Must Refuse Your Test

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Coming from the land of the eleven month rain fall, I bring you the same disclaimer as the other two chapters. Also, a small warning. These chapters may not be coming as frequently as they are now. A chapter a day is fine with me, but I've been neglecting one of my other stories on my site that's very close to being finished. So, a chapter every other day may have to do. Sorry, but enjoy this one.  
  
Chapter Three  
// I must refuse your test //  
  
  
"No, Anastasia. I can deal with this on my own."  
  
Her eyes rolled as she through herself on the couch and hung her head off of it, looking at her father upside down. "No, actually, you can't deal with it by yourself, and do you know why? Because when you say that you'll deal with something yourself, you just let it go and hope that everything just...disappears. Not good, therefore, I'm helping."  
  
Grissom looked over at her and shook his head. "You've been helping a little too often. And you're going to have a headache if you stay like that."  
  
Crossing her arms, she looked back defiantly. "Dad, I hate to say it, but you really pissed off Sara. I mean, big time. I listened to her complain about it for at least an hour, and if it continues, then I'm going to hear more of it. Don't get me wrong, I love her, but she can hold a grudge, and all it takes it end it as an apology from you. Does that sound so difficult?" She paused and blinked her eyes a few times. "I forgot who I was talking to for a moment."  
  
He went to say something, but decided against it and picked up the newspaper from the table, deciding to take a more safe route with his daughter. "I'm not kidding, you will have a headache. Sit up."  
  
She grinned, despite the fact that her face was turning a deep red. "Not until you agree to my wonderful plan of apology, all right? Look at this way, I have two people in my life. You and Sara. I haven't made any friends out here, because you're still keeping me under lock and key, and I haven't gone to high school yet. It doesn't help when the only two people in my life are fighting and are both so stubborn that they won't apologize. It's one word and one contraction. I'm sorry."  
  
"Apology accepted, now sit up," he told her as he took the seat beside her, peering down at her colorful face. She glared, but didn't say anything. "That's it," he finally said, dropping the paper in his lap. He reached down and grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her back onto the couch. "Oh, no, you don't," he added when she started to go back down. "Besides, you have other people in your life."  
  
A smirk settled on her face. "Name one."  
  
Picking up the paper again, he started to read the front page. "You've been around Catherine for a-"  
  
"Eh, wrong. I baby-sit for Catherine occasionally, and when I do, she always...wait, I can't say that," she mused, thinking about the last few conversations they had after Anastasia had been paid. She wasn't the only one that had an idea, and she was glad that she wasn't alone. "Anyway, it doesn't count. Go ahead, try and be brilliant one more time."  
  
He calmly turned the page and started to read again. "What about-"  
  
"Nick? He's taking me driving, that's all, and that's only because he saw the pathetic look on my face when you said no. So, he doesn't count, either. And before you even go there, Warrick doesn't count, because I barely know him. Do you know anyone from outside the lab, because this is getting really bad."  
  
"Bad?" he questioned.  
  
Her hands flew in the air, before she got off the couch and started into the kitchen. "Pathetic would be a better choice of a word. You have no life, Dad. You know, the same thing that I say you're stopping me from having because you rarely let me out of your sight? That thing. Look it up in the dictionary, they probably have a good description." Opening the fridge, she looked inside, shaking her head. "A life. You don't buy them, and they're really easy to get. Me and the old lady next door don't count as a social life."  
  
Grissom finally looked up at her, shaking his head. "What are you getting at here?"  
  
"Everyone is accusing me of something lately, and I'm doing anything...too damaging." Turning away from the fridge, she looked at him. "It's not like I'm asking for a new mother or anything. Despite the fact that you would look horrible in a frilly pink apron, you're doing a pretty good job now, but think about me for a moment. It may sound selfish, but it would be nice to have someone else completely permanent in my life."  
  
His eyebrows shot up as the suggestion, and he folded the newspaper, leaning forward to put it on the coffee table. "Anastasia, you're not asking me to get married again, are you?"  
  
Sighing, she walked back into the living room and looked down at him before taking her old seat and smiling. "Of course not. I just think that it would be nice if there was someone in my life who could offer me advice about the things I need to know and there are some things that I can't go to you with. I mean, if I told you that I was dating someone and I wanted to have sex with them, you'd lock me in my room and never let me out. But that's just my point. I need someone that isn't a parent that could answer all my questions, or as best as they could."  
  
"You have Sara for that. You don't need someone else."  
  
"Dad, she can offer me advice, but how do I know that she's going to be around for a long time? I know that, over the years, we've kept in touch, but you never know what could happen. And I know a couple of other people that I could go to, but...it's not the same. They don't know me that well."  
  
He watched closely as she played with the hem of her shirt. "And you don't know for sure that if I was seeing someone that they would be around forever, too. No one is, Anastasia, you know that. I know that...you miss your mom, but-"  
  
"You wouldn't be replacing her, Dad. That's the problem with you. You could never replace Mom, I realize that, but don't you deserve a little bit of happiness? And it's not like a woman in your life would replace Mom for me, either. She's my mother, I understand that, but it's been over ten years. You are allowed to move on." Shaking her head, she took a deep breath before letting it out. "Please, just agree with what I was talking about before. It's a start, at least."  
  
For a moment, it looked like he was going to shake his head and tell her no, but he finally relented. "All right, but no more scheming after that. Understand?"  
  
"Perfectly," she said, while crossing her fingers behind her back.  
  
**********  
  
With a roll of her eyes, Sara fought with the hem of her skirt, wondering if she deserved some sort of punishment, because what she was wearing as punishment enough for murder in her opinion, and as far back as she could remember, she hadn't killed anyone. But there she was, nonetheless, battling with the obnoxious piece of material and catching her reflection in the window beside her. "This is wrong," she said under her breath. It was more than wrong. It was...hell.  
  
As she walked to the entrance, she noticed a familiar figure shivering in the cold as she was talking on a familiar looking cell phone. Anastasia raised her head and waved her over, still talking. "Just hold on a second, please," she said into the phone before turning to Sara. "Wow, you even own a skirt? Go on in, our table isn't even ready yet. I just have to finish my call."  
  
"Sure," she said, giving the teenager a funny look as she walked past her. She felt her staring at her as she walked before she heard the conversation resume. Shaking her head, she walked in the doors and looked around for a moment before her eyes narrowed and she looked over her shoulder at the girl once more. "I'm going to kill her," she muttered quietly before taking a few steps forward. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Grissom turned and gave her a surprised look. "I could ask you the same thing."  
  
Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they both looked towards the grinning teenager, waving the phone in the air. "Well, I have to admit that I did scheme a little, Dad. You know what I asked you, but I thought that I'd just help a little, and what's better than the three of us having dinner? Oh, score one for the annoying brat," she said with a chuckle, handing the phone back. "Thanks. Is our table ready yet?"  
  
"In a moment," he said. Sara heard the warning tone under his voice and had to turn away to smile. The kid was going to get a stern talk, but she had to admit that it was a smart idea. "Anastasia, I-" He was broken off by his phone ringing. "Just a second."  
  
The girl leaned close to Sara and dropped her tone so that they wouldn't be overheard. "He just noticed that I hiked up the skirt and pulled down the top. It was a fight to get out of the house. Think he's going to kill me?"  
  
"If he doesn't, it'll be pretty close," the brunette offered as he turned back to them, holding out the phone. "We're not being called in, are we?" she asked in a louder voice.  
  
He shook his head. "No, it's for Anastasia. Catherine needs to talk to you. Something about an emergency." They watched as she took the phone and walked over to the corner, talking rapidly. Both of them were silent for the minute that the call took before she walked back to them a second time and slammed the phone shut before she put it in his palm. "What was that all about?"  
  
She frowned and looked towards the door. "I'm not sure, but she needs me to go over there and watch Lindsay for a little while. She was talking so fast, I couldn't understand half of the stuff that she said. So, I have to run. Don't worry, I'll just catch a cab. Uh...you two enjoy your dinner. I'll see you when you get home," she said, before walking back out the door.  
  
Sara watched her leave and shook her head. "She's damned good," she whispered to herself, giving the girl the credit that she was due. When she wanted to do something, she did it.  
  
"What was that?" he asked, looking back at her.  
  
"Nothing," she said. "You know what? We're already here, so we might as well eat. I'm sure we can have a meal without killing each other." Even if it was part of a plan...and whatever that plan could be, she thought...she was hungry. The only thing that she wasn't looking forward to would be any and all conversation, because she knew that if he said just one thing that rubbed her the wrong way, she would jump all over it. It was almost automatic at that point.  
  
A very quiet sigh sounded from him. "I really need to talk to her," he said with a shake of his head. "You sound a lot better than before, and you...uh...look better, too."  
  
Her mouth opened to comment, but for some reason, she could feel the beginnings of a blush starting on her face. "Oh, thanks. Those cold medications can work wonders." Raising her eyes from the ground, she snuck a quick look at him. "You know, we should really..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And I really need to..."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
Groaning, she reached up to tuck her hair back from her face. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Look, I'm sorry, all right? I shouldn't have snapped at you...twice. I can't say it was wrong, because I still think that you deserve it." Damn her stubbornness. "But at the very least, I'm sorry."  
  
"You were sick," he offered. "Most people are very irritable...I know what you mean," he continued quickly when she shot him a bad look. He went to say something else, before someone caught his attention. "Our table's ready."  
  
She stayed behind for a second and shook her head with a grin. "He'll never change."  
  
**********  
  
With a satisfied smile, Anastasia wrapped her hand around the mug of hot chocolate and sighed as she curled her legs under her. "I'd say we pulled that one off pretty well. Thanks for your help."  
  
Catherine sat down beside her and smiled. "Normally, I'd be against this, but it's better than the two of them moping around. You do realize that this benefits everyone just as much as it does them?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes, I did...and if you're game, I've got ten bucks that says Sara starts it off."  
  
"You're on." 


	4. 04- I Must Refuse Your Test (part two)

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as before, and I'm sorry that this took so long to come out. If you knew how twisted my other stories were...well, you'd probably be trying to rip out your hair, too.  
  
Dedication- For Paula, from...ahem, Momma Juiles. It's been awhile since I heard that one. I missed you, girl. Don't disappear this time without letting me know what's up.  
  
Chapter Four  
// I must refuse your test...part two //  
  
  
He stood in the doorway to her room, watching her as she slept. Normally, his daughter was up by the time he came home from work, but there were a handful of occasions that she was still asleep when he came in, and this was one of those rare times. It had been a long time since he had just stood there and watched her sleep. The day that they had brought her home from the hospital after her attack, those few months ago, he had sat in the chair that was hidden in the corner of her room, and watched her for a little while, before actually falling asleep himself. But he couldn't really remember much of that afternoon or that night.  
  
What did he actually remember, Grissom questioned as he leaned against her doorframe. He remembered bringing Anastasia home, Sara driving. He remembered taking his daughter up to her room and putting her in bed, before coming down and finding not only the signs of the attack and kidnapping cleaned up (and he knew all along who did it), but the brunette had been laying on the couch, already asleep. There had only been one time that he had actually seen Sara asleep, back when she was still baby-sitting a little Anastasia.  
  
And he had to remind himself that he wouldn't walk into his house and see a four year old snuggled up to a teenager on the couch. There wasn't a blonde baby that bounced around the house anymore, and Sara definitely wasn't the teenager with long, unruly hair that would walk through the door with a backpack thrown over one shoulder so that she could finish her homework while she watched after Anastasia. There were no more games of Chutes and Ladders at the dining room table, no more trying to teach someone how to play checkers. There weren't two girls that were dancing around to the radio, and he wasn't greeted at the door by a rambunctious child, a grinning girl, and the smell of just baked cookies. And he wasn't stepping on Barbie doll shoes and jewelry whenever he walked into a room. It sounded very domesticated to him, but it was the life that he had led back then...and he missed it.  
  
It wasn't the same to see a brow haired teenager struggling with what she should wear that day, or to see a dark haired woman, the hair sometimes still unruly, when he walked down to his office every night. He didn't mind the change all that much, but he missed the old days when everything seemed so much simpler. When he didn't have to worry about boyfriends, and piercings, and kids who purposely talked back. The most he had to worry about back then was how much money he had in his wallet to give Sara when he came home. He would look at a picture that his daughter drew during the day, help her baby-sitter with a homework question or two, and sit down to dinner. God, he missed that.  
  
And it was the moments like this that he missed. He was always the one to wake Anastasia in the morning. Tara would be downstairs, trying to think of something to make for breakfast, and he would quietly come into the girl's room and watch her for a few minutes, wondering what was going through her tiny head. He would sit down on the edge of the bed and just barely touch her, and he'd be the first one, every day, to see her bright smile, and hear her, "Good morning, Daddy." He was lucky these days if he could get a, "Is there any coffee," comment out of her now.   
  
The sunlight was just starting to come through the window, and he knew that in only moments, Anastasia would wake up. He wasn't sure if he should leave or just wait until she actually opened her eyes. Just as the thought went through his head, he saw that it was too late, because she was already forcing her eyes open and stretching her arms above her head to try and wake herself up. "Good morning," he said from the doorway, watching her.  
  
Her head turned on the pillow to look at him. "Morning. How long have you been standing there?" she asked as she yawned and rubbed her eyes.  
  
"I'm not sure. A little while. You're up late."  
  
"I had a busy night," she told him as she threw the blankets off of her and put her feet on the ground, giving him a look. "You haven't told me yet, how was your date with Sara?" she asked as she reached for the glass of water that she had left on the night stand and picked it up as she started towards the door. "You're blocking my way to coffee."  
  
"Sorry," he said, taking one step out of the way and watching as she started down the stairs, following behind her. "And Anastasia, it wasn't...where did you get that idea, anyway?"  
  
She shook her head. "What, that it was a date? Please, Dad. The word doesn't have the same meaning that it did when you were my age. But you put one woman and one man at a table to have dinner and boom, automatic date. She didn't try to kill you, did she?"  
  
Pausing, he watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "What did Catherine need you to come over for?"  
  
"Oh...nothing big," she said, wondering why they hadn't worked out anything for her to say. Sure, the phone call was a stroke of brilliance, but there was no actual story to it. Was she supposed to say that she sat around in her living room, had two cups of hot chocolate, made a bet, and then went on her merry way? That wouldn't cut it with her father. "Don't worry about it. I'm more interested in what you two talked about. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to attack Sara?" She put out her hand as she walked by, waiting to see him dig into his pocket and give her what she wanted. And he did reach into his jacket pocket, taking out the last package of cigarettes that Anastasia would see for the longest time before throwing her one of them and putting it back where he had gotten it. "Well, at least you're not making me quit cold-turkey. Damn, this one a morning in killing me," she muttered as she reached for the lighter ontop of the table.  
  
"Deal with it," he said, adopting the stern tone that he had been using more and more since she had moved in with him. "Are you going to tell me the truth about what happened last night?"  
  
Her head turned towards him slowly, a smile starting on her face. "Maybe when I turn eighteen, and you can't ground me anymore. I didn't do-" She saw the look he was giving her and quickly dropped the smile. "I didn't do anything...damaging. That's what I was going to say." She sipped her coffee and waited for him to say something. Anything. She had a feeling that he was doing the one thing that she used against him all the time...the silent treatment. "Uh...Dad? The kid is supposed to not say anything, not the parent. It's very simple to talk, you know. You open your mouth and words come out. Wow, I'm a genius."  
  
"It's a little more complicated than that," he said dryly. "There was no emergency, was there?"  
  
"Define the word 'emergency'," she asked, looking for a way out of this situation. "If you're talking life or death, definitely not. No one was dying or being born. No one broke any bones, or sprained anything. There were no tears involved, nothing-"  
  
"I get the picture, Anastasia," he finally said, cutting off her speech. "I'm sure that you'll come up with some excuse, but what I want to know is if you asked Catherine for help with whatever you were doing."  
  
Her eyes widened after she turned away, and she mouthed a few swear words before turning back and smiling. "You'll have to ask her. It's not like I know every little thing about her. You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" He shook his head slowly. "Damn it, I hate it when you do that to me. Then let me go onto the next set of questions. How was work, did anyone I know die, and did you finish your homework, young man?" she asked before shrugging. "At least you can answer those, right?"  
  
He really wanted those old days back.  
  
**********  
  
This wasn't exactly how she wanted to spend her afternoon. Running after an overly happy teenager that had more than enough money to burn on new clothes and books for school, when she could have been sleeping. The crowds in the stores for all the back to school sales were suffocating, and she wasn't a claustrophobic person by nature. The screaming and crying kids that she passed reaffirmed her decision that she never wanted to have any. And worst of all, the constant noises coming from the cash registers were going to either make her pull out her hair in frustration or pull one of them off of the counter. She was betting on the latter, rather than the former.  
  
She knew that the day wasn't going to go well when she had driven up, and Anastasia had a look on her face that could only be described as a wallet full of money, and Grissom had a rather relieved look on his face. He was definitely the smart one in this situation, she mused as she looked through a rack of pants idly. He didn't have to come and deal with the people...and if that kid beside her screamed once more about not getting what she wanted, she was going to be in the Guinness World Book of Records for child punting.   
  
And the teenager in question was, at that moment, fighting her way into one of the small rooms to try on what she had. Day number one of a big, week long sale, and they just had to go that day. Everything that she wanted could be gone by then, she had said. Yeah, right. It looked like everyone else had the same idea. And people wondered why she hated to go shopping.  
  
Was behavior like that hereditary, she wondered as she watched a mother and daughter whine to each other about the prices on the clothes. Shaking her head, she looked away and glanced back in the direction that Anastasia had disappeared to. She wasn't standing there, which meant that she had finally gotten one of the impossibly tiny cubicles, and she would come out in a few minutes, and look for more clothes.   
  
"I'm going crazy," she whispered to herself, giving some woman a bad look to match the one that she had gotten from her. Rolling her eyes, she walked away from her. She wanted nothing more than to leave the store they were in and wait for her somewhere, but Grissom still had his daughter under strict rules ever since what had happened a few months ago, and she was sure to get an earful if she had left only for a few minutes.   
  
It was funny to her, but she couldn't remember what it was like when she was a teenager. If she had fought through the enormous crowds for a certain pair of pants or a shirt, or if she had been like she was now, detesting the whole process. Despite the fact that Anastasia usually wore jeans and a tank top, she was clothes happy and already had a closet that could barely be closed...and she wanted more. God, this was making her head spin. She was never going to agree with this next time she asked, she told herself, but she knew that when the big sales came along again, or Anastasia thought her clothes were already out-dated, she'd be fighting her way through crowds once more. The thought of Christmas shopping made her head pound a little more as she looked around.  
  
She looked up towards a set of speakers as yet another pop song started to play. What she wouldn't give to find a ladder and rip those things out of the wall, she thought. It would give her so much satisfaction that she... "What did you say?" she asked suddenly, turning around.  
  
Anastasia gave her a small grin and lifted the two new bags that she had added to all the rest she was carrying. "I'm done here. Actually, I'm done shopping altogether. You ready to go get something to eat?"  
  
She let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Yes, thank God."  
  
The girl smiled again as they started out of the store. "I know. Sometimes people can get a little crazy in there, but for the stuff that I got at the prices I got them at...I'd do it all over again tomorrow."  
  
"Without me. I'm not doing that again." She looked over at her. "I almost kicked a kid."  
  
The teenager waved her hand in the air. "That's nothing. I've had that urge a few times, especially when they start crying in the stores and their mother's just let it happen. I mean, come on. Shut up your kid, don't give the rest of us headaches." Her brown eyes flicked towards Sara a few times before she hid the smile that was forcing its way out. "So, you didn't tell me? How was dinner last night?"  
  
With a smirk, the brunette glared at her. "What was the emergency that you had to rush over to Catherine's for? She's not saying a word about it."  
  
Opening her mouth, Anastasia went to say something before deciding against it and shaking her head. "The truth is, there was no emergency," she said truthfully. "The phone call that you saw me making was to her. She agreed to call me and pull me out of the restaurant when I explained what was going on." Seeing Sara's look, she continued. "I think the words that you use to apologize are in Dad, they just get stuck halfway, and he hates looking like an idiot. I just...moved things forward a little faster."   
  
"And you tried to play innocent when I asked you about it. What did your dad have to say about it?"  
  
She laughed, swinging the bags she was holding in her hand. "After he gave up on it for a little while and then I finally told him? Besides the stuttering at having to punish me and then turn around and not punish me? Take your pick between the, 'What were you thinking?', the 'What has gotten into you lately?' and the 'Young lady, you are in so much trouble, it's not even funny.' And I loved every minute of it."  
  
"He didn't say that...did he?"  
  
"You should have seen it. He looked so shocked at the fact that those words came out of his mouth that I couldn't help but laugh. Which didn't help matters all that much, but he got over it after awhile. I thought it was rather interesting, though. I mean, he acted like...like a father. That's scarier than having a gun to your head. Well, maybe not, but close enough." Pausing, she pushed through the exit doors and looked back at Sara. "He did apologize, didn't he?"  
  
She fought back a smile. "In his own way."  
  
A frown went over her face. "No, no, NO," she said, stomping her foot on the ground. "That wasn't supposed to happen. Damn it, he promised me. I laid the ultimate guilt trip for nothing? Ugh, what I wouldn't give for a normal father. It's not like it would kill him to actually apologize."  
  
"Getting that much out of him was a miracle," she said, trying to calm the girl from throwing a full blown temper tantrum as they walked back to the vehicle. It didn't do much for Anastasia, because it meant that her plan wasn't working the way that it should have. Maybe she was too young to do something like that, she thought for a moment. Sara saw the look in her eyes that meant the wheels were turning in her head and rolled her eyes. "Ana, drop it. Despite the fact that we should both be mad at you for doing what you did...it was pretty smart for a seventeen year old. Happy?"  
  
"Just barely," she muttered as she waited for her to unlock the doors. Maybe it was time to try something else.  
  
**********  
  
They both watched as the girl flew up the stairs with a number of bags. Grissom shook his head and turned back to Sara. "Did she actually get anything that she needed?"  
  
She nodded. "After I threatened her, she actually did get all of the paper and binders, pens...all that stuff. But most of it is clothes." Crossing her arms, she smirked and looked back at him. "I'm never doing that again. Next time, you're taking her. I can't deal with all of that. I almost killed three people and I'm starting to seriously doubt my sanity."  
  
"Thank you for taking her. I wouldn't know where to start if I had to do that," he said.  
  
The woman froze, repeating those words in her mind. Did he just...but she was pretty sure that he had just thanked her. And sincerely. That was a little strange, she told herself. "Uh...no problem. But like I said, next time that she wants someone to go shopping with her, you're doing it." Looking down at her watch, she swore quietly. "I can still get a few hours of sleep if I leave right now. Tell Ana that I'll call her tomorrow."  
  
He nodded. "Sure, and thank you again, Sara."  
  
She just shook her head as she started to walk back to her waiting vehicle. She had made the comment just the other night that Grissom would never change, but it seemed like he was starting to, and she didn't know what brought it on or what was going through his head at the moment...not that she could ever really tell. But she wasn't about to start complaining.  
  
In fact, she kind of liked it. 


	5. 05- Guess I'll Lie Alone Just Like Befor...

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as the rest, except for the fact that I'm making money on this now. Or at least, I will be. I've set a bank account, for a charity called the "pepsicolagurl's in desperate need of financing" charity. All you need to do is...all right, sorry. I'm still not making any money. My bad. And my thanks to the BC Health Guide for a little bit of information. And to think that I almost threw it out when I got it through the mail. Sorry about that, Gordon. Tell me the truth, do you think I'm obsessed with ankle injuries?  
  
Chapter Five  
// Guess I'll lie alone just like before //  
  
  
"God damned, stupid son of a bitch!" Grissom looked up from what he was reading and narrowed his eyes, immediately placing the voice that had just let out the scream. He paused, waiting to see if there was going to be any more curses coming from the same direction. For a moment, it seemed like there wasn't going to be, but soon enough, the same voice shouted one more time. "Idiotic mother fu-"  
  
"All right," he finally called back, before walking out to look in the hallway. He winced when Sara pulled her foot back and kicked at the yellow sign that let them know that the floor was still wet. It hadn't been in an easy to see place to begin with, but now it clattered down the hallway, spinning as it slid on the still slick floors. "Is there a reason why you decided to attack that?"  
  
Her hand pressed against the wall as she lifted one foot off the ground, her face still flushed with color. "I'm having a bad day, all right? The shopping trip from hell was bad enough, but this? Damn it, if they could put the signs in places that people could see them, no one would be walking around her, twisting their ankles." She took her hand from the wall and leaned her back against it, pushing her hair out of her face. "And I think I broke one of my toes."  
  
The situation struck him as funny, but he forced himself not to laugh. The last thing he wanted to do was Sara even more angry. He had learned that lesson just a few days ago. "Are you all right?" he asked instead.  
  
Her head turned towards him so quickly, he found out that the little girl in The Exorcist had nothing on his co-worker. "Does it look like I'm all right? Did you hear a word that I said?" she snapped, before shaking her head. "Sorry, but I'm in a really bad day now, and it's not going to get any better."  
  
"Actually," he said, looking down at his watch. "The day is over, it's Friday now, not Thursday." Her eyes narrowed at his smug tone. "Can you walk on it or do you plan on spending the entire morning over there?"  
  
Her eyes rolled as her head fell back, making a dull thud against the wall. "Of all the times he decides to be a smart-ass," she muttered to herself, before sighing. "I don't know, but let's find out, shall we?" she asked, before leaning forward and gingerly putting her foot back on the ground. It seemed fine, but when she took the first step forward, she almost fell. The only thing that stopped her was Grissom grabbing onto her from the side. If he had taken any longer, she would have been face down on the floor. "Thanks," she said.  
  
"Come on, I'm almost an expert at ankle injuries at this point," he told her. Anastasia's ankle had eventually healed, and during that time, he learned everything he needed to about sprained ankles and the pain that someone could go through when she would accidentally step on that foot. Shaking his head, he helped Sara into the closest room and helped her sit down on the first chair he saw.   
  
"I'm sure it'll be fine in a few minutes," she said with a hopeful tone, rolling her eyes again when she saw his look. "Just let me go scream at a few people, and everything will be perfectly fine."  
  
He gave her another look before unlacing her boot carefully. "You almost made someone quit the other day because you screamed at them. Just calm down, please." Very carefully, he slipped off her boot and put it on the ground, before rolling down the sock that she was wearing so that he could see her ankle. "Can you turn it?"  
  
She did, and grimaced in pain at the same time. "It's just twisted. I've sprained my ankle before, I remember what it was like. I just need to walk on it for a little while, and then I'll be fine."  
  
"You tried to walk on it, and you almost fell, remember? I don't have the time to walk behind you all morning so that you don't fall again," he told her, gently feeling her ankle. "And I remember when you sprained your ankle. Anastasia was what...two or three?"  
  
"Around there," she said. "So tell me, Doctor, am I going to die or not?" she added sarcastically as he let go of her ankle and stood up. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Where do you think?" he asked, taking hold of the medical kit near him. "Sara, your ankle is swelling, and you're right, it's probably just twisted. But I know you, and I know that you're not going to go home because you hurt your ankle. Those boots that you're wearing down have any support in them."  
  
She shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "They're comfortable, though. Look, I-"  
  
"Sit down, Sara." She immediately fell back into the chair, crossing her arms like a pouting child as she watched him rifle through the kit. "I don't know why you're complaining. The quieter you are, the quicker I can have this done."  
  
Sighing, she moved her head to watch as he came back and knelt down again. "First off, I could do this myself. You do know that, right? And second, I'm not your daughter, so don't talk to me like I am. I haven't been a teenager for a long time. Have you even noticed that yet?"  
  
With an amused look, his eyes raised to meet hers. "I noticed a long time ago, Sara." That shut her up, just like he knew it would. She leaned heavily against the back of the chair, her mind racing to try and find the meaning behind those words, becoming more and more confused. She didn't even notice when he had finished wrapping the Ace bandage around her ankle, until he put her foot back down on the ground. "See, that didn't take very long, and you were quiet. Surprisingly."  
  
"What, I talk too much now?" she asked as she reached for her boot, slipping it over her foot and lacing it up once again, looser than she had done that evening. "Do you mind if I go back to work now?"  
  
He turned to look at her, a smile trying to fight its way to the surface. "Would you mind doing something for me, first?"   
  
"I've learned to say no when you ask for a favor, but I'll bite. What do you need this time?" she asked, standing up carefully and putting some weight on her foot. At least she could stand and walk on it now, but it still throbbed with pain.   
  
"All I want you to do is take an aspirin and find a couch. You need to put that ankle up for a little while, but," he continued, holding up a hand to silence her. "I'm not asking you to leave, I'm just asking you to take it easy for about an hour."  
  
Shaking her head, she hobbled towards the door. "An hour?" she asked in a pitiful tone, looking over her shoulder quickly before turning back to the hallway. She missed the mischievous look on his face by a fraction of an inch. "Just an hour?" she asked, finally conceding.  
  
"Just an hour," he repeated. "If you were doing something that you can't take with you, find something else to work on, but only for an hour. I'm sure someone would be willing to trade off with you. And, if you're wondering, there's a bottle of aspirin hidden near the coffee in the cupboard. I don't know who put them there, but that's where I found them."  
  
Sara walked out of the room. "I plead the fifth," she called over her shoulder as she continued along her way.  
  
With a slight smile, Grissom looked towards his watch once more, trying to figure out how long it would take for his plan to come into action. A half hour, he judged silently, thinking about the tired look on Sara's face when he had ran into her at the beginning of the shift. All he had to do was bide his time and then make sure that it had actually worked.  
  
A half hour could be a lot of time to someone, but patience was a virtue and he was a very patient man. By the time he had looked at his watch, the time had already passed and then some. Now there was no doubt in his mind that he knew what had happened, he mused to himself as he stood up and walked out of the room, going towards the lounge. As soon as he walked in, he couldn't help but smile at the sight before his eyes.  
  
With one foot propped on the arm of the couch and the other on the ground, Sara was loosely holding whatever file she had been reading...and she had fallen asleep. Grissom knew that an aspirin, especially the extra strength ones that he had directed her to, would knock her out right away and let her get a little sleep. He knew that it wasn't saying much for the leadership that he was supposed to show to everyone, but it was a lot better than the alternative scene of carrying her out of the building kicking and screaming.  
  
Reaching down, he took the file out of her hand and closed it, throwing it towards the table. It slid for a moment, threatening to hit the ground before stopping. Turning back to the sleeping brunette, he reached for the jacket that she had thrown on a nearby chair and carefully covered her bare arms before stepping back. That was the second time in four months that he had to do the very same thing, and something that he wasn't particularly used to.  
  
He stepped back and looked at her for a moment, flashing back to the comment that she had made less than an hour ago. The one about how she wasn't a teenager, and how she wondered if he had noticed. He admitted to himself, and only to himself, that sometimes he still did flash back to the teenager that he knew, but the distorted perception didn't usually last all that long. In fact, he had noticed that she had grown up quite awhile ago, but it would take a lot for him to admit to something like that.  
  
Why, he didn't know. It wasn't like it was a big secret any longer. But he couldn't help thinking about what a big shock it had been to not see the teenager for awhile, and then a few years later, see the teenager as an adult. It would be the equivalent of coming home to see Anastasia in her twenties, when the last time he had left, she was only seventeen. Grissom wasn't a person that really cared of change, and that was exactly what happened. It was no longer, "Thanks for the ride, Gil," that he heard. If he even offered, it would be more of a, "I can drive myself, Grissom." Change. It was almost an evil word to him.  
  
Shaking his head, he took another few steps back before turning on his heel and heading towards the door. But he couldn't help looking back once more, and noticing all the differences between the two different brunettes that he had known. For some reason, he liked this Sara better. A lot better.  
  
**********  
  
The sunglasses went over her eyes as she blinked at the growing sunlight, before shaking her head. "You let me fall asleep," she said in the most neutral tone she could muster at the moment. When she only got a nod from her, she sighed. "You let me fall asleep and you let me sleep through almost the entire shift."  
  
His eyes bounced towards her quickly before looking ahead again. "Yes, I did, Sara. As much as you don't want to admit it," he began, opening up the passenger side door and throwing his jacket on the seat before shutting the door. "You needed the sleep. Was there something wrong with that?"  
  
She was stuck for an answer, and could only shake her head again. "Well...no."  
  
"And nine times out of ten, I don't ask you to work over-time, so I wasn't concerned with the fact that we were short one person. I didn't think there was anything wrong with letting you fall asleep, and it didn't bother anyone else. Are you that concerned about it?"  
  
"No, it's just...it's not you. I'm not saying that you work us until we drop dead, but you normally wouldn't let anyone get away with something like that." Sara shifted her jacket so that it hung over her other arm and watched him curiously. "In fact, you've been doing a lot of things that aren't you. What's up with the sudden change of heart?"  
  
With a slight shake of his head, he dangled his keys from one hand. "I don't know if I would call anything that's happened a sudden change of heart. I'm just...you're still limping," he added as she followed his around the other side of the vehicle.   
  
"Don't change the subject," she told him. "Really, what's up with you? You were going to say something before, and then you broke yourself off. What are you not telling me here?"  
  
"I'm just...seeing things for what they are. You're the one that told me that I should do that, back when Anastasia first came out here. And the very least I can do is thank you for that," he continued, before turning to face her. "So, thank you, Sara."  
  
She took a step back when he opened up the driver's side door and climbed in, sitting down. "You don't have to say that," she began slowly, trying to find the right words to say. It was harder than she thought. "But that...that means a lot to means a lot to me, because I know how much you hate things to change. I didn't think that you actually listened to me when I said that."  
  
He looked at her one last time. "You'd be surprised what I hear." The door shut and she took two more steps back as the engine started and he pulled out of his parking space, leaving her standing there, watching as he left the parking lot to go home. She couldn't help but shake her head as she walked over to her own vehicle and unlocked the doors, letting herself in. Turning the key in the ignition, she reached for her seat belt before sitting back in the seat with a confused look.  
  
She'd be lying if she didn't say that Grissom was confusing her more and more with each day that passed. He had always been somewhat of a mystery, but this was worse than normal, because now, all the pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together. She wasn't even sure where to start with what had been happening lately. No one had never known what to expect whenever he opened his mouth to say something, but now she didn't know how she was going to react to what he was going to say. The different flood of emotions that she had been experiencing wasn't exactly the most fun, but at the same time...she couldn't help but wonder what brought those feelings on, just like how she couldn't help but wonder what was going through that man's head.  
  
And just what did he hear, she asked herself as she snapped her belt into place, resting her hands on the steering wheel. The only person that Sara ever felt comfortable confiding in was Anastasia, and although she knew that the teenager would never tell anyone what they talked about, a lot of the conversations took place in his house. Most of the time, the girl reassured her that her father was sleeping and couldn't hear a thing that they were saying...but she couldn't be too sure of that. He could be as quiet as humanly possible, and sometimes, you never even noticed if he was standing right beside you.  
  
What could he have heard, that's what she was concerned about. Because there were a lot of different things that he could have heard, but there were a few things that he didn't particularly need to know. Just how would he react if he knew that she was talking to Anastasia about subjects that the girl probably shouldn't even know about at her age? She couldn't help but wonder if he had heard the conversation on her last call from her parents, or the conversation about how she couldn't remember what it was like to come home to someone waiting for her. Or had he heard any conversations at all.  
  
She could only roll her eyes. He probably hadn't heard anything that she talked about with his daughter. He could have very easily been talking about the office rumor mill that was usually at full force during the week. He probably wasn't even concerned with what the two of them talked about when he was sleeping.  
  
So why did that thought hurt more than the others? 


	6. 06- The Waiting Drove Me Mad

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as before. The one line of lyrics is from Garth Brooks, "Standing Outside The Fire". And my thanks go to Abby, who picked out of two versions of this chapter, for me to put up. You rock, girl.  
  
Chapter Six  
// The waiting drove me mad //  
  
  
"Okay, that's it," the teenager said with a huff. "You've found that window more interesting all night than...are you even listening to me? I'm not a person that needs to be heard all the time, I don't demand for that, but damn it, I'm talking and you're not listening."  
  
The brunette turned from the window and looked at her. "Sorry, what?"  
  
Anastasia groaned, rolling her eyes at the same time. "Sara, what's up with you? You barely touched your dinner, you're staring out the window and let me tell you, it's not the prettiest or the most interesting sight in the world, and you've completely tuned me out. What the hell is going through your head right now?"  
  
She shrugged and reached for her cup of coffee. "I'm sorry, Ana, I'm just not all there today. For some reason..."  
  
"For some reason, you've been thinking a lot more than you usually do." She passed by on the easy joke, but smiled instead and leaned across the table. "Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to ignore me the rest of the night?"  
  
"I haven't been ignoring you, I've heard every word that you said. I've just...got a lot on my mind, that's all."  
  
The girl nodded. She had a lot on her mind, too. Her and Catherine had decided to try the "divide and conquer" method, and she couldn't help but wonder what was happening in her own kitchen at the moment, but she knew that she would find out soon enough. "Bad case, huh? Dad's like that sometimes."  
  
Sara sighed. "No, it has nothing to do with work. Well, sort of, but not really. I'm not making any sense tonight, am I?"  
  
"But that's normal, so I won't hold it against you," she returned with a bright grin. "Come on, as sad as it sounds, a teenager is your best friend, and I want to know. I'll start whining if you don't tell me."  
  
"Not that, please," she said with a grin, holding up her hands to stop her. "It's nothing, Ana. Just wondering where life is going to take me. Not as exciting as it sounds, I know."  
  
She shrugged. "Not terribly exciting, but I get no sort of excitement at home, so I'm living it through you. What, exactly, are you thinking about? Life in general, the fact that you're not dating anyone...what? By the way, the guy sitting over there at the bar is checking you out," she said, nodding her head slightly. "I'd say no. He looks more like he wants to steal your purse than sleep with you."  
  
"Anastasia," she said, automatically chiding her before she smiled again. "You slipped that second part in there nicely. Is there something that I should know?"  
  
"Besides the fact that you should be seeing someone? I take it that you have a candidate in mind. Is he in presidential running, just a governor, or is he even on the ballot yet?"  
  
Her eyebrows raised slightly when she finished talking. "Someone's been watching too much West Wing again."  
  
Anastasia nodded. "Guilty as charged. I'm a sucker for Martin Sheen. But we're getting off subject. I want to know who this person is. Come on, Sara. Didn't your parents teach you to share?"  
  
"You really have to learn how to butt out of people's lives. Do you really need to know everything?" When the girl nodded, she started to laugh. "Fine. For some reason, there's someone that I just can't get off my mind. Are you happy now? I've been thinking about what's going on, what to do...if anything, that sort of thing."  
  
A frown covered her face. "Oh, no, you have to do something. Think of it this way, if you didn't do anything and you just went on with your life...wouldn't you always be wondering what would have happened if you had done something? You might have been happy, living in a house with a white picket fence, two point five children...you know, I really feel sorry for that half a kid." She grinned when Sara started to laugh again. "If it were me, I would do or say something. Anything. Actually, I did that once, but I don't think that kissing a boy in kindergarten really counts," she added.  
  
The smile died from Sara's face when she thought about what Anastasia had said. "But, for the sake of argument, let's say that I did do or say something, and it didn't turn out? What then, smart ass?"  
  
"Well, you hate to look like an idiot. I know, but at least you would have tried. And I bet you anything that whoever this guy is, he's got the same idea in mind. Sara, you're gorgeous, you're funny...at times. But really, you've got the perfect combination of looks, charm, and attitude. What man doesn't fall madly in love with you? And don't you dare blame that on reading romance novels, because I don't."  
  
"I'm...I...oh, I hate you sometimes, Ana," she groaned. "How can someone your age be so right about something like this? I hate it when you do something like this." Shaking her head, she turned back to the window and looked outside for a few moments. "I think you might be on the right track with that, though."  
  
"And I think that next time we go out for dinner, we're getting a table away from any windows," she said dryly. "Go for it, Sara. You never know what could happen, and I have a feeling that it's all going to work out."  
  
Her eyes turned towards her briefly. "What happened to the pessimistic person that usually sits across from me?"  
  
She shrugged. "She's on vacation, and the hopeless romantic has taken her place. Please, do something so that I don't have to listen to this constant whining for the next few weeks. Throw caution to the wind. Take a chance. Don't forget to slide when you're heading to home plate. Oh, wait, that last one doesn't work, but you know what I mean. You're just going to beat yourself up over this for a very long time if you don't do anything. You WILL try, won't you?"  
  
"Why are you so concerned about this?" she asked suddenly. "Why do you care about this?"  
  
"All right, pull out the crackers because this is the cheesy part of the conversation. Because I care about you, Sara. Excuse me while I wipe a tear from my eye," she said sarcastically. "You're like an older sister to me, and that usually means that I'm supposed to annoy you to all hell, which I already do, but I also want to see you happy. And you don't seem to be very happy."  
  
Sighing, she picked up a spoon beside her and played with it for a moment. "I'm more confused than anything. This came out of nowhere, it really did. But it's there." The spoon fell onto the table with a clatter. "So, you think I should?"  
  
"You're taking advice for a seventeen year old. However smart that can be, I don't know, but I think that you shouldn't be living the way that you are. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you need something else in your life...oh my God, I feel like Dear Abby. This can't be good."  
  
She chuckled and leaned across the table, lowering her voice. "If I do say something, and this doesn't work, you're buying the ice cream."  
  
"Deal," she said with a grin. This was turning about better than she had originally thought.  
  
**********  
  
When he opened the door and stepped in, he could have sworn that he had walked into the wrong house, because what he saw definitely didn't look like anything that he had left. Normally, there wasn't a pair of jeans tossed on the stairs, he couldn't remember any books scattered on the floor, and the noises that were coming from upstairs made him cringe. The only thing that seemed right was the country music that was blasting out of the stereo in the corner.  
  
Sighing to himself, he stepped over a notebook and walked into the living room, turning down the music considerably. "Anastasia?" he called up the stairs. A loud bang came as his answer, before the girl came running down the stairs, brushing her hair at the same time. "What are you doing?"  
  
She gave him a funny look and shook her head. "There's this thing called school. It starts today. I hate it already," she said as she went into the kitchen and poured out the contents of the mug on the counter, filling it with hot coffee. "I haven't been able to finish one cup of coffee yet, I can't find anything to wear, and I'm running so far behind, it's not even funny."  
  
He stood there for a moment, staring at her like she was a stranger, before shaking his head. "What's wrong with what you're wearing?" he asked first, surprised at the look that he got from her.  
  
"Dad, these are pajamas. I'm not going to wear pants that have little butterflies on them to school. Ugh, I can't believe you sometimes," she said impatiently as she sipped her coffee and started back upstairs. "Why did you turn down the music, anyway? I was listening to that."  
  
"And so were the neighbors. I'm sure they appreciate Dwight Yoakum at eight in the morning, Anastasia."  
  
Her eyes rolled as she climbed the stairs. "Garth Brooks, Dad. You're...you're just...making me even later than I was. Damn it," she muttered as she turned towards her bedroom. "How was work?"  
  
"As exciting as ever," he shot back at her, before walking into the living room and moving a notebook over so that he could sit down on the couch. He picked up the paper and started to read the front page. "Do you need a ride to school?"  
  
Anastasia reappeared as she was buttoning her jeans. "You have to be kidding me. I might as well wear the butterfly pants to school," she said with a laugh. "I can't have my father dropping me off at school on the first day. Would you like to pack my Barbie lunch box for me while you're at it?" She ran down the stairs, making more noise than necessary as she went back to the kitchen and started to brush her hair again. "You know, this was so much easier in private school. You put on your uniform, you go to the cafeteria for lunch, and your classes in the building next to the one you stay in. This kind of school seriously sucks."  
  
He nodded from behind the paper. "Should I remember that the next time you get in trouble? Seriously sucks?"   
  
"What's up with the sudden sense of humor, Dad? You're not making this morning any easier for me."  
  
"Sorry," he said, smiling to himself as he turned the page. "So, it's not 'cool' if your dad drives you to school, but you can take the school bus? I thought that it was equally 'uncool'."   
  
She laughed as she stuck her brush in her mouth and bent over to pull up her socks a little more. Standing up, she stuck the brush handle in her jeans pocket as she drained the rest of her coffee, pouring herself another cup. "Well, it doesn't rate high on the cool meter, but it'll have to do. I'm sure that eventually, I'll run into someone that will offer me a ride to school in the mornings, but you know, once I get my license..."  
  
"I'm not buying you a car," he said, looking over at her quickly. "There's no way that I'm buying you a brand new car. Do you know the percentage of car accidents for teenagers?"  
  
Her eyes rolled as she picked up her backpack, opening it to put her books inside. "Yawn, Dad. That's a total yawn. I really don't care about statistics, I just want a Mustang." She laughed again and looked around the room. "Let's see, I have my schedule, my books...oh, I need money. I'm buying lunch today."  
  
He put the paper down and started to dig into his pocket. "I thought that you said you were going to make your own lunch, since school cafeterias usually have too much red meat for your liking," he said, as he handed her a ten dollar bill.  
  
"Thanks. Eventually, I will, but I didn't say that I was going to eat in the cafeteria. I'm a senior, therefore I'm allowed to leave campus for lunch. That's enough for a salad and a drink, which is exactly what I want."  
  
"What you want...what you need is a job. I'm not giving you ten dollars every day."  
  
Anastasia sighed and turned around to find her shoes. "I know that, but you just said the other day that you don't want me to work in certain places, and believe me, your list kind of takes everything out. I'm sure that if I get a job, I'm not going to be held at knife or gun point, and besides, been there, done that. Oh, I forgot about that."  
  
Grissom looked over at her. "Forgot about what?"  
  
"The fact that my life story was practically in every newspaper and on every news channel out here. Damn, that doesn't help." When she saw his confused look, she went on to explain. "See, everyone is threatened by the new girl in school. I know, I've always been the new girl. But the new girl also has a mystery around her, because no one knows anything about her. Well, they know almost everything about me now. And they know who you are. Oh, this is definitely not my morning."  
  
"What?" he asked, shaking his head with confusion.  
  
"Dad, you play around with dead bodies. You probably throw parties in the morgue...oh, wait, you don't throw parties, but my point is, dead is not cool. In fact, it's anti-cool, unless you're talking about rock singers. They all know what you do, and that doesn't help." The frown dropped from her face as she considered something. "I think I can work my way around this, actually."  
  
Shaking his head, he picked up the paper again. "I'm so happy for you. You seem...happy despite the fact that it's not a good morning for you."  
  
She nodded as she finished lacing up her sneakers. "I've been inspired by Mr. Garth Brooks, and I'm going to take his advice. You should really do the same. Have you ever heard the song, 'Standing Outside The Fire'?"  
  
"Can't say that I have."  
  
"Oh. Well, there's a line in there that's going to become the theme of my year. 'Life is not tried, it is merely survived if you're standing outside the fire.' So, I've decided that I'm going to jump into the flames."  
  
The paper went back down as he gave her a funny look. "What, exactly, does that line mean?"  
  
"It means that I'm going to bungee jump naked this year." She said it so seriously that he believed it for a moment, until she started to laugh. "I'm kidding, Dad. It just means that I'm going to take a chance. Screw consequences, I'm going to do what I want. I don't know what I'm going to take a chance on, but I'm damned well going to do it."  
  
"Take a chance on not swearing so much," he said dryly.  
  
Her head shook as she threw her backpack over one shoulder and took the brush out of her pocket, throwing it to him. He caught it one-handed and put it down on the table. "Maybe you should try the same thing, Dad. Take a chance, don't worry about consequences. You never know what might happen," she said slowly. "All right, I'm out of here. I'll see you in the afternoon, and if you hear me scream when I come in, that means that they were cruel enough to give us homework on the first day. See you," she said as she opened up the door.  
  
As he was reaching for the newspaper, he saw one of her notebooks on the couch. "Anastasia, you forgot something," he called out before she went out the door.  
  
Stopping, she looked over at him. "You're right, I'm starting my day off all wrong." With a shake of her head, she ran over to him before taking the book from his hand and leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Well, it worked for kindergarten. See you later," she called as she ran out the door and slammed it behind her.  
  
After she left, he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading anymore, because her words were echoing through his head. Take a chance, forget about consequences. It was advice from a seventeen year old, but maybe it wasn't so bad after all.   
  
Maybe not.  
  
**********  
  
Pulling her backpack further up her shoulder, she grinned to herself as she walked down the street. "It's about time they noticed. I thought I was going to be dead before they did," she said to herself.  
  
"I'm good." 


	7. 07- Ah, Push Me and I Will Resist

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as all the rest. And my apologies for this taking so long. I was injured, on pain killers, and the Stanley Cup play-offs are my excuses. Well, that and writer's block. But I've been whistling the Hockey Night in Canada theme for about a week now. That can't be good.   
  
Warning- There are a few snippets of song lyrics in here, and some of them could be deemed...improper. I hope that I don't offend anyone, but 70's music really was all about sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll. So, don't hold it against me that I'm using lyrics of some of my favorite songs (I grew up on this crap, after all)  
  
Dedication- To DF, who pointed out that there are a few similarities between Anastasia and Brooklyn. Okay, so I'm not the most creative, but you never told me anything like that before. Thanks a lot, Dame (and yes, that was sarcasm)  
  
Chapter Seven  
// Ah, push me and I will resist //  
  
  
For that split second, his house had seemed normal. Nothing like it had been that morning, which of course, he had cleaned up after Anastasia had run out the door. Normal was nice. He liked normal. But that split second lasted exactly as long as the words meant, and it hit him that it definitely wasn't normal in the living room. That was obvious enough, when there were newspaper clippings strewn across the table, notebook paper that was being scribbled on and then dropped wherever it was convenient, and his daughter was the one that was hunched over all of it as she chewed on the end of a pen.   
  
He watched her for a moment, knowing that her silence was very rare. He had also never seen her do homework before. Yet another thing that he had missed out on over the years, but if that's what happened when she normally did homework...he couldn't help but be thankful that he wasn't around for all the messes.   
  
And then she opened her mouth.  
  
"She's the Queen of the Silver Dollar, and she rules this smoky kingdom. And her scepter is a wine glass and a bar stool is her throne. And the jesters flock around her, and fight to win her favors, and see which one will take the Queen of the Silver Dollar home."   
  
The song, the lyrics...they were very familiar to Grissom. He knew the entire song by heart, every little piece of it. He knew it because it had been Tara's song, although it really hadn't been anything more than a joke. He had first seen her in a bar called the Silver Dollar, so many years ago, and for weeks, he had tried to remember the song. It turned out that she had the album all along, and she had been the one to play it and jog his memory. From that day on, she had been the Queen of the Silver Dollar to him.  
  
But the strange thing was, it didn't bother him to hear the song anymore. He hadn't listened to it for a long time, that was true, and anytime that Anastasia pulled out the CD, he was never there. He knew that she listened to it, because the case would be sitting on the table when he came home from work, and the disc would still be in the stereo, but she had never actually played it when he was there. It used to be hard to listen to the song, but now...it was just another song. Nothing more than something that he used to listen to.  
  
Anastasia had seen him out of the corner of her eye, and she reached for the remote control, skipping to another song. "You're up a little early. You normally sleep for another hour."  
  
He didn't comment, but came closer to the table to see what she was doing. "How was school?"  
  
"Well, if you can't tell, I'm not happy. I think the teacher wants us to do this just so that he can read what I have to write." She gave him a look before gesturing to all the newspaper articles. "He wants us to a report, not an essay...he had to stress that...on the most exciting thing we did last year. Oh, what joy this is going to be."  
  
"A report, not an essay?" he asked, sitting down as he turned on the papers towards him. It was an article on her kidnapping. Not exactly the reading material he liked, he thought to himself.   
  
She nodded. "A report. Meaning that if we went away somewhere, he wants facts on where we visited. Or, if we were abducted, he wants articles and the such. The more interesting ones get read out in class. Gee, I wonder who is going first?" she asked before raising her hand. "I'm sure that this is going to be nothing but fun."  
  
Grissom shrugged as he put the paper back where she had it. "You did do other stuff during the year, right?"  
  
"I don't think he wants a report on my last school, or our trip to Hawaii...I know what he wants, and unfortunately, I'm going to give it to him. This whole thing is...shit."  
  
"Anastasia, watch your language."  
  
She grinned as she looked down at the paper she was writing on. "Do you even notice that you say that anymore, or is it just totally automatic?" Without waiting for an answer, she started to sing along with the next song under her breath. "Come on, babies, grease your lips. Grab your hats and swing your hips. And don't forget to bring your whips, we're going to the Freaker's ball. Blow your whistle, bang your gong, roll up something to take along. It feels so good, it must be wrong, we're freakin' at the Freaker's ball." She was the look he was giving her, and couldn't help smiling. She remained quiet until the chorus started to play. "The greatest of the sadists and the masochists, too, screaming, 'Please hit me, and I'll hit you'."  
  
"Maybe you shouldn't be listening to this."  
  
Her eyes rolled. "Dad, you let me listen to this when I was a kid. Granted, I didn't understand all the words, but I was the only seven year old that knew how to say 'masochist'. That's a talent, you have to admit that."  
  
Standing up, he started towards the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. "I didn't let you listen to this. I just think that you shouldn't be listening to this."  
  
"Go find yourself some Lawrence Welk albums, then. I happen to like Dr. Hook," Anastasia said, her tone getting close to a whine.  
  
"Just put on something that has lots of fiddles and steel guitars, please." He waited until she picked up the remote and pressed a few buttons. Country music started to filter out of the speakers. "Thank you."  
  
She waved a hand at him before turning around to look at him. "No problem," she said, lacing her words with as much sarcasm as she could. "By the way, is Sara coming over tonight?"  
  
"Why would Sara come over tonight?" he asked.  
  
Well, he was either completely clueless, or he didn't know how to read a calendar, she thought to herself. She was hoping that it was the latter, because completely clueless just wouldn't help her plan along. "Because it's Tuesday. The day after Monday, and the day before Wednesday. Sara almost always comes over on Tuesday, usually to talk to me, but...you know, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't come today."  
  
Grissom pushed the coffee pot back in place and flipped the switch on the side before walking back to the dining room, giving his daughter a strange look. "If she comes every Tuesday, like you say, why wouldn't she today?"  
  
"She doesn't ALWAYS come over, Dad. There have been a few Tuesdays since I've been back that I haven't seen her, but most Tuesdays, she's here. As for why she might not come...well...no, you don't want to hear it. I just couldn't say it." She turned her head away and looked down at the carpet, trying to stop the smile that was forming. Damn, she thought, sometimes this is just too easy.  
  
"Couldn't say what?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Still, he couldn't help thinking that he didn't want to hear whatever she was going to say.  
  
Anastasia took a moment to control herself, before turning to look at him. That was the mistake. She burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Do the words, 'Ding, round one', mean anything to you?" she asked between her giggles. "I'm surprised that Catherine didn't kick both of your asses."  
  
"Don't swear," he said automatically. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, she wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes, before looking at him again. "Don't even try it, Dad, because I know all about the fight that took place last night, because Catherine called me to inform me of that and to ask me if I would baby-sit on the weekend."  
  
He frowned. "There was no fight, and you're not baby-sitting if you have to stay up all night. You do have school now."  
  
"I know. This is on the weekend, and it's during the day. Catherine is taking Lindsay and a friend...somewhere, I really wasn't listening to that. But her friend's mother can't make it, so she asked if I would come and help her look after them. No big deal. What is a big deal is the fact that you and Sara got into it so bad last night, that she almost threw a punch. Now, I know that you really have to piss Sara off for her to even consider doing something like that, so you must have really pissed her off. I'm talking big-time pissing off, here."  
  
Sitting back in his chair, he couldn't help but think about the last shift. He knew that he must have said something or done something to her that set her off, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. His daughter was close with her speculation, though. "Why would Catherine tell you about that?"  
  
"She likes to keep me informed, that's all. Besides, she thought it was funny, and so did I. I can't believe that she had to put you two in separate rooms. That's priceless. Did she really try to go all Mike Tyson on you? I really wish someone would have taken a picture. THAT is a true Kodak moment."  
  
"THAT is none of your business, Anastasia."  
  
She smirked as she stood up. "Were her fists clenched, and was one of them about to raise? Was her face turning red, and was she screaming or yelling?" She saw his reluctant nod. "Then she was going to throw a punch. You're lucky that Catherine stopped you in time. I have a feeling that she has a mean right hook."  
  
He watched as she went to get her shoes, sitting down to tie them up. "Where are you going?" he asked, grateful that he could change the subject.  
  
"Don't freak out. The report is my only homework, I have a week to do it, and I'm at a bit of a standstill with it. Besides, it's not like I'm going to a party to get ridiculously drunk," she added under her breath. "I'm leaving because-" She broke off and listened to something outside. "Because Nick is supposed to take me driving today, and he's here already. I know that you trust him, and besides, I'll be home in an hour or so with my virginity in tact," she added with a giggle as she ran out the door.  
  
He opened his mouth to say something about her last remark, but let it slide when the door slammed shut behind her. He was just starting to learn that he couldn't do anything about her or her mouth.   
  
**********  
  
She cleared her throat nervously, before letting herself out of the vehicle. Sara almost wished that it wasn't a Tuesday, but she had wanted to see how Anastasia's first day at the new school went, a tradition they had since the girl was only seven years old. The only problem was that this time, the girl's father was involved, and the two adults were exactly on the best terms. Of course, that's what happens when you almost punch your boss, she told herself.  
  
Her eyes flicked from the guest parking lot to the townhouse that she was supposed to walk to, deciding which would destination would be smarter. The air-conditioned ride home, or the confrontation that she knew was coming, whether it be facing Grissom or explaining what had happened to Anastasia. The ride back to her apartment seemed to be the better of the two, but her feet didn't seem to agree. They started to lead her to the townhouse against her will.   
  
She stopped in front of the property and looked towards the front door. Reaching up, she ran a hand through her hair with a deep sigh. Normally, she wasn't this much of a wimp, she told herself. She knew that she had been in the wrong when it came to the explosive fight at work, but usually, she would just shrug off whatever was wrong and go on with her life. Not this time, and she couldn't figure out why this was bothering her so much.   
  
It wasn't like it had been the end of the world or anything, she told herself sternly. It was a fight, that was it. A fight that she had instigated, a fight that she took farther than she normally would have. One of many fights that they had been involved in the past month or so.   
  
"Get a grip. It's not like you're walking to your execution or anything," she told herself.  
  
But if that was true...why did it feel like she was? 


	8. 07B- Ah, Push Me and I Will Resist

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as before. This is just a continuation of the previous chapter.  
  
Chapter Seven (part two)  
// Ah, push me and I will resist //  
  
  
There was no turning back, she thought as she stared at the front door. She couldn't just walk back down the stairs and leave, and she couldn't just stand there and stare at a closed door. There was only one thing that she could do, and that was to knock and wait for Anastasia to open the door. She forced herself to knock, and waited. Would it help if she prayed, she couldn't help wondering.  
  
And it was good and bad when the door opened. The upside was that country music could be heard coming from the stereo, and Anastasia was the one that listened to it. The downside was that it wasn't the teenager that opened the door. She smiled hesitantly, but didn't say anything. "It's Tuesday," Grissom said, a touch of amusement in his voice.  
  
"Yeah," she said in return, catching onto what he meant. "Tuesday. It's been Tuesday all day so far. Can I..." She trailed off, uncertain of what to say.  
  
Instead, he nodded. "She's not here. You missed her by about ten minutes. Nick picked her up to take her driving."  
  
"Right. I forgot that it was today he was taking her out. I'm sure she was excited about that." As soon as the words came out, she winced and shook her head. "That sounded bad. I meant that she must be excited about being so close to getting her licence, not the fact that...never mind."  
  
He nodded again. "I'm not blind, Sara. I know why she's excited, I just choose not to say anything that would embarrass her."  
  
She looked down at her feet. "Oh."   
  
"We need to talk."  
  
"I should go."  
  
They looked at each other, startled at the fact that they spoke at the same time. Sara laughed lightly. "You're right, you know. We do have to talk, but I have to...I mean, I'm late for...damn it, let's just get this over with. You want to talk? Talk."  
  
He looked around for a moment. "Out here?"  
  
Shrugging, Sara smiled slightly. "Yeah, out here. Why not? It's...fine, I'll come in." She was about to say that it was safe out on the porch, and it was to her. There was really nothing out there that just screamed Grissom, while in the house, EVERYTHING was his. With her on the stairs, and with him standing in the door, it was neutral ground. Now, she was coming into his territory. With a roll of her eyes, she walked past him, wondering when this had changed from resembling a boxing match to a war. All she needed now were some fatigues.  
  
She walked quickly into the living room and looked around. The couch looked inviting, but that thought only lasted for a moment. Judging by how the morning's newspaper was on the coffee table, and the cup of coffee was right beside it, she knew that he had been sitting there only moments before. The last place she wanted to be was in the townhouse, but if she was already putting herself through that sort of predicament, she sure as hell wasn't going to take a seat anywhere near him. As comfortable as that couch was...she was heading straight towards the dining room table and pulling out one of the less comfortable chairs to sit in.   
  
Once they had both situated themselves, an even more awkward silence enveloped them. Sara tapped the toes of one foot on the ground, moving her head to look out the sliding glass door that led to a small patio. What she didn't know was that he was looking in the same direction, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Both of them turned away as quick as possible, choosing instead to look at the coffee table. At the same time. Their eyes met once more, before she sighed and sat back in the chair. Her arms crossed as she looked down at her lap, which she knew was a safe place for her eyes to be.   
  
The only sound in the room was from the stereo, the country music still spreading throughout the room. Sara reached behind her and picked up the remote control, hitting the power button to quiet it. "Sorry," she said. "I don't really care for country." Her words were punctuated with the sound of the remote control landing back on the table.   
  
As soon as she had shut off the music, she wished that she had left it on. Without the background noise, the silence between the two of them was even more uncomfortable. Her foot stopped tapping and she sighed again, this time more deeply. Someone had to say something to break the silence, and she could tell by the look on Grissom's face that he was still trying to find a way to start out what they both needed to say. Looks like it's left up to me, she thought to herself.   
  
"You know, this never used to happen to us," she said softly, still not looking at him. "We never had a problem talking before."  
  
He nodded and took a chance to look at her. Only for a second, before he looked away again. "You're right. Things change."  
  
Frowning, she tried to stop the words that she desperately wanted to say, but even trying to keep her mouth shut didn't help. They came out quickly, and it almost sounded, to her, like an accusation. "No, things don't change. You changed. I know why, but for most people, that would just be temporary." She frowned again when she noticed that the words had an almost wistful tone to them. It wasn't like it was a big secret that she wasn't all that happy about the change in him all those years ago, but she wanted to know where the hell that came from. She had gotten over that a long time ago.  
  
But Grissom didn't pick up on that tone. He had been so busy listening to her words that he never even had the slightest clue of how those words had been said. The words, however, immediately put him on the defensive. For a moment, he could have sworn that it had been his daughter that said that...but then he snapped back to reality and remembered that it was Sara that was sitting across from him. And Sara definitely wasn't his daughter. The truth was, he didn't even know what Sara was. Just another mystery tossed into the hundreds that he struggled with every month.   
  
She couldn't help but choke down her laughter when she saw his face. It was the classic 'Grissom is thinking' face, right down to the eyes that shifted to the side and the slight pout. She had seen that more than enough times to know what it was, and what it meant. It was damned near impossible to snap him out of that almost dream-like trance, and she could only wait until his eyes would clear and he would turn to face her again. And it seemed like this time, she was going to be waiting a long time.   
  
Instead, she started to look around the room, trying to find something that would catch her attention so that she'd at least have something to do until he joined her back on Earth. The only thing that she looked at for more than a moment were the two pictures that had just been added to the few on a glass and chrome shelving unit against the back wall. It was obvious that Anastasia had been the one to put them there, because they were there the same pictures that she used to have in her room, and Sara recognized the two frames. One of a newborn with her parents, and one of a three year old girl with her baby-sitter. She couldn't help but wonder if Grissom even knew they were there, or if the teenager had just slipped them in there recently.  
  
Her head turned towards him quickly. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" she asked. It was almost as if she could feel his eyes burning holes in her. She wasn't even sure if he had said anything, it was that feeling that made her turn back to him.  
  
An amused expression filled his eyes as he nodded slowly. "I was wondering when you were going to stop staring at the wall."  
  
"You were the one that zoned out on me," she said in her defense. Shaking her head, she gave him an almost bored look. "Look, we're obviously not getting anywhere with this. Say what you need to say, and then I can be on my merry way. Besides," she added, checking her watch. "Ana should be coming home soon, and I'm sure that she doesn't want to be a witness to whatever we're going to say."  
  
He opened his mouth to say something, but decided on a different route. "Actually, she would more than enjoy it. Catherine seems to be informing her of everything, and she thought it was...amusing. So did I."  
  
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Grissom, all we needed was the blonde in the bikini holding the 'Round One' sign for everyone to see. I almost punched you. I don't think it's that amusing. I was severely pissed off...I still am severely pissed off."  
  
"Which has been happening a lot recently."  
  
Sara waited for him to go on, and when he didn't, she could only roll her eyes. "You know, that's really your problem. You can say something like that as dryly as you would describe a crime scene. You just can't bring yourself to ask a question, can you? You can't say, 'Why are you so mad?' Because...what...you wouldn't be in control of the conversation anymore? Because you just can't do something like that? What's your excuse, that's it's a medical condition?"  
  
"You-"  
  
She cut him off quickly, a smirk appearing on her face. "Wouldn't understand, right? The only person that understands you better is learning how to turn left at an intersection, probably at this very moment." Sara stopped herself from saying much more, but she couldn't help herself from adding one little part. "You know, all you're doing is making me more mad than before."  
  
He shot her an incredulous look. "How, exactly, am I doing that? I haven't said one thing that could make you more mad than you were before," he added in his defense, wondering when he had to start doing that.   
  
"That's the thing. You haven't said much of anything. You were the one that said that we had to talk, and you say maybe a sentence at a time, and you leave the rest up to me. Talking to you has the same affect as talking to yourself. No gratification, and you sure as hell don't get an answer." How far could she go with this, she wondered. How far could she push until he completely closed down? "What did you want to say, Gil? Did you want to ask me something, or are you just going to sit there and listen to me rant because you won't say anything. God, this has turned into a mess."  
  
"You're telling me," he said dryly, shaking his head. "I just...I wanted to know why I've suddenly caused this desire in you to act like my daughter when she first came to Las Vegas. What have I done, Sara?"  
  
Her eyes widened at his words. "There you go again. Stop associating me with Ana, would you? I'm not your daughter. I'm not some seventeen year old spoiled princess that can get away with whatever she wants. Look at me, Gil. I've grown up. I don't come over to baby-sit anymore. And if you did take one look at me, you'd realize that."  
  
"We've already had this conversation. That still can't be bothering you."  
  
"Bothering me? Ana's not here, so I'll say what I've wanted to say for a long time. I'm not 'bothered' by it. I'm fucking pissed off. This isn't a bad hair day, or PMS, or any other excuse you can come up with. The truth is, you're the one that's pissing me off, and we're not going to solve anything if we keep this ridiculous conversation going the way it is."  
  
He examined her face slowly and carefully. The bright, angry eyes. The redness that would have looked like a sunburned face under different conditions. The smirk that just wouldn't disappear. "I don't think this could be considered a conversation," he said slowly, trying to think of what to say. Something that would calm her down would be best, he thought to himself.   
  
Instead, Sara jumped the gun and interrupted him. "You know what, I'm not even going to listen to this crap anymore. I'm going to go home, I'm going to have a sandwich, and I'm going to forget that this ever happened."  
  
"You sound like a country song."  
  
Their heads both turned when they saw Anastasia standing there, her hands on her hips as she glared at them. Neither one of them heard the door open, but whether they heard it or not, she was standing right there. "You're right, she does sound like a country song, and I have the CD upstairs," she began. "I'm not going to go get it, though. Because I want to know why the hell I could hear you screaming like he just killed your dog. Not that you have one." She turned from Sara and stared hotly at her father. "And you. Don't think she's getting all the blame for this one. I'm sure that you were very instrumental in starting this damned thing, whether you know it or not. The only question is, who pushed who too far?"  
  
Glaring at Grissom, the brunette faced the teenager again. "I didn't know you'd be back so early. How...how was your day?"  
  
Her eyes rolled as she sighed heavily. These were the two people that she thought would be perfect for one another? This was as impossible as trying to get a perfect mark on a science test. She was beginning to think that neither one would happen. "You want to hear how my day went? It was fine, until I came in here and heard the two of you fighting yet again. My God, this can't go on forever. And if it does, I'll...I'll take up self-mutilation." Anastasia knew that she was acting like the spoiled brat she was, but it was her only way to have them listen to her. "So, before I storm upstairs to find a razor blade or something, let me leave you with one last thought. The two of you may have your problems, and you might not be able to stand each other, but think of everyone that's involved in this. Not just me, although this is beginning to piss me off, too. Think of the people that have to work with you. I'm sure you make it such a joyful experience."  
  
"Anastasia-"  
  
"Don't you dare 'Anastasia' me, Dad. Look, it's obvious that you have some things to work out with each other. And they better be worked out, all right? I can't take much more of this, and I'm sure everyone at work is just as uncomfortable as I am right now. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find said razor blade." She stopped immediately and looked towards the dining room table. "Okay, homework first, self-mutilation second. Have to keep your priorities straight, after all," she grumbled as she picked up her books and started up the stairs at record speed. Seconds later, they heard her door slam shut.  
  
Sara let out the breath that she had been holding during the entire exchange, before she looked down at her lap. "She...isn't serious, is she?"  
  
"She's not serious about the self-mutilation. Or the homework," Grissom added.   
  
They fell into silence and sat there, even more uncomfortable than before. 


	9. 08 This Behavior's Not Unique

Title- Absolutely Nothing's Changed  
Author- pepsicolagurl  
Rating- R for language  
  
Notes- Same disclaimer as before. Hey, look, I've resurrected this story! This is your brain (egg comes into view). This is your brain on writer's block (smashed egg comes into view). I just managed to scramble all of this together. Enjoy.  
  
  
Chapter Eight  
// This behavior's not unique //  
  
  
  
His eyes followed her as she practically floated around the living room, looking for something to pass the time. If he didn't know better, there was something on her mind, and he was almost afraid to try and figure out what it was. "Anastasia?" he said, trying to catch her attention and pull her away from her nervous movements.  
  
When she turned to face him, he knew that something was definitely going on with his seventeen year old daughter. "Yeah?" she asked, in the same tone of voice that she would have used had he jumped from behind a door and purposely scared her. She stared back at him for a moment. "What is it?"  
  
"I..." Now that he got her attention, he didn't know what he wanted to say. Was there a reason for trying to get her to stop? "Is there a reason that you're pacing back and forth?" Good enough, he figured.  
  
An almost terrified look entered her eyes, before she nodded. "Yeah." Lifting her wrist, she showed him the silver watch that was dangling. "See this? It counts the minutes and hours. Even the seconds. And in about ten minutes, there should be a vehicle pulling up right in front of our place to take me to my friend's house."  
  
A slight frown creased his forehead. "You didn't say anything about going out tonight. Who are you going with?"  
  
"Remember, I told you all about Jennifer, that girl that I met in school. We're in the same science class, and believe it or not, the teacher is already going to spring a test on us. After one week of school. How much does that suck? Anyway, we're both really stressing over this, so we figured that two minds are better than one." Anastasia paused to take a breath, looking at his expectantly.   
  
"Again, and in English, please."  
  
Her eyes rolled as she sat down on the edge of the couch, looking at her feet. She dragged them across the carpet, refusing to look up at him. "We're going to study together. You know, for someone that has a job that revolves around figuring out mysteries and all that...you really don't do well when it comes to me. That message should have been as plain as day." Her eyes widened as her eyes came back to her watch. "Oh, damn. I have to go get dressed. I can't go over there wearing this," she added, gesturing to her jeans and tank top.  
  
He shook his head before seemingly returning his attention to the thick hardcover book in his lap. "Why in the world do you need to get changed to go study?"  
  
"Because Jennifer's older brother FROM UNIVERSITY decided to take a year off and come back to live with his parents. Damn, is he hot," she added before running up the stairs.  
  
As soon as her door slammed shut behind her, and the sound of her closet doors being opened came from the second level, Grissom smirked slightly before pushing a finger into the book to mark his place and closing the cover. He had a feeling that there was more than just studying going on that night, but he decided not to question it. Anastasia had told him many times that he was too paranoid about letting her out of his sight, and while he disagreed, she was a teenager. A little innocent fun couldn't hurt her.  
  
But a little innocent fun wasn't what she had planned for the night. In fact, it was just another piece of her devious plan.  
  
  
**********  
  
  
What she wouldn't do for her father, she thought to herself as she sat on the porch of an unfamiliar house, staring at an identical one across the road. She put the almost empty beer bottle next to her before digging one last cigarette out of her pocket, mentally thanking whoever it was that had been intoxicated enough to give her the remainder of a pack. She took a deep drag as she looked down at the brown glass bottle, a frown on her face.  
  
A little research, and a lot of ignoring her conscience was what had brought this part of her plan together. She asked a few innocent questions, and had managed to get invited to the right party. She just hoped that when she was older and she finally came clean about what she was about to do, she wouldn't be disowned or worse.   
  
The cigarette didn't last long, and neither did the remainder of her one and only beer. All she needed was enough for her breath to reek of Budweiser, the effects of the drink were going to be easily acted out by her. She hadn't been kidding when she had mentioned to her father that he just didn't seem to be able to read her as well as he read crime scenes and criminals. Her whole plan was banking on that fact.   
  
Standing up, she looked across the street to see a vehicle pull into a driveway. Right on time, she thought to herself as she watched someone get out of the vehicle and walk up the driveway before casting a look towards the house. She couldn't blame him; the party kind of stood out. On a dark, quiet street, they had all the lights blazing and the music turned up to a ridiculous level. Not to mention the scores of teenagers that were sprawled out on the front lawn, on the porch, and even in the neighbors yards. Just as his head turned towards the party, she took her chance and took the first step off of the porch, holding onto the railing when she felt her head spin. It wasn't the first beer that she had ever drank, but she wasn't exactly a seasoned drinker, either. It hit her faster than she had hoped it would, thanks to the fact that she hadn't eaten dinner that night.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her head before continuing down the stairs. Once her feet hit solid ground again, she swayed a little, her eyes still on the house across the street. The person standing there had come around to the back of their vehicle to get something. Anastasia grinned to herself and started singing to herself, a little more off-key than normal. Her voice gained volume as she started towards the sidewalk, pausing every now and then as if she had forgotten the words to the song. She giggled and sang even louder before stopping underneath a street light and peering at the man who was giving her a funny look across the street.  
  
"Thank God I did my research," she whispered before shaking her head and lifting a hand to wave. "Hey. Are you coming for the party?" she yelled across the road, louder than she had to. She added a giggle afterwards, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping that she wasn't over-doing the drunk act.  
  
The man paused again and looked hard at her, before shaking his head slowly. "Ana? Is that you?"  
  
"Of course, it's me. Who did you think it was?" she asked, taking off her jacket and swinging it over an arm. "I have to go home now. My dad thinks that I'm studying. Don't tell him anything," she added, grinning brightly at him before taking a wobbly turn on her heel and starting down the street again, singing to herself.   
  
Footsteps sounded behind her, and an hand grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hey, I have pepper spray, and I know how to use it," she warned before turning around to see who it was. "Oh, hey. It's you again. Are you taking me out for a drive, Nick? I really need help on those intersections." She made a face when she mispronounced the word, but continued on without a beat. "What are you doing here?"   
  
Nick sighed deeply as he examined her face. There was no doubt in his mind that she hadn't planned on doing any studying that night. "Yeah, I'm going to take you for a drive," he said slowly, an idea forming in his head. He smirked as he looked over his shoulder. "Come on, I live right over there."  
  
She pulled her arm away from his hand and took a step back, waving a finger in front of his face. "Oh, no. I can't stop. I have to go home. See, Dad told me that he was going in to do some paperwork because it's supposed to be his night off." She paused in all the proper places, as if she was confused with the bigger words that she was using. To tell the truth, her usually expansive vocabulary wasn't coming into play like it normally did. "I told him that I didn't know if I was going to spend the night or not, and I should get home before he does. Otherwise, he might know that I did something wrong."  
  
"Nah, he'll be there for a few more hours," Nick said, making it up as he went along. If only he knew that both of them were making up stories and lying like it was going out of style. "Besides, I owe you a cup of coffee, right? You managed to parallel park on your first try, and I bet you a cup of coffee over that."  
  
She snapped her fingers with a wide grin. "That's right. I've got to collect my bet." She made a show of looking at her wrist, squinting to see the shapes that replaced the numbers on the face of her watch in the dull light around them. "But it's...it's...what time is it?"   
  
Fighting down another sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how to deal with the seemingly drunk teenager. "You have plenty of time," he told her, before taking her arm again. "Come on, let's go get you a cup of coffee before you go home."  
  
She followed beside him willingly, casting a look towards the on-going party that was now across the street from her. Luckily, she had covered her bases and told her friend that she was getting another ride home. With the research that she had done, looking up Nick's address in the phone book (and praying that it was going to be close by the party) and finding out with an innocent question when he was going to be home, she had planned this with the most careful details. She was just thankful that it all worked so far. Still, she had the nagging feeling that she had missed something in all the of cautious plans she made.  
  
Waiting for Nick to unlock his front door, she pushed past him and leaned down to unzip her boots, before she fell over into the wall. She giggled to herself as she finished taking them off and looked at Nick expectantly. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked. He pointed her in the direction of the room, giving her a funny look. "I'm not going to fall in. You don't have to baby-sit me while I take a pee for Christ's sake," she muttered to herself, making her way down the hallway, albeit with a little less balance than she normally had.  
  
As soon as she was inside the small room, she took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, dropping the smile from her face. "I have to be crazy to think that this is actually all going to work out in the end," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. Bringing her hands up, she closed her eyes as she furiously rubbed them. She opened her eyes and looked at herself again, nodding when she saw how red they now looked. "Perfect," she said to herself, before leaning against the counter and singing 'Happy Birthday' under her breath. Once she was finished, she leaned over and flushed the toilet, before giving the hanging roll of toilet paper a slight touch, just in case he would notice the small details like that. She ran the water for a few moments and washed her hands, making sure they smelled of soap before she turned off the light and let herself out.  
  
"It sure was dark in there," she said as she walked down the hallway, seeing him in the small kitchen. "Until I found the light, that is." She pulled herself up on one of the tall bar stools and kicked her toes against the bar as he turned to look at her. "You know what my friend always used to say? God said 'let there be light', but what He really meant to say was, 'get your fat ass out of the way so I can flip the switch'. Isn't that funny?" she asked with a giggle.  
  
"Hilarious," he said dryly before pushing a mug across the bar to her. "Black, right?"  
  
She nodded and took a sip of the liquid. She knew what his plan was. Try and get the drunk girl a little more sober so that he could take her home and hopefully, they could both miss the explanation that they no doubt would have to give. Anastasia wasn't going to let his plans go through so smoothly, not when she had plans of her own. "Longhorns, huh?" she asked, looking at the mug. When she saw his look, she smiled with a shake of her head, a little stronger than she normally would have done. "College football is cool."  
  
He took the stool from beside her and pulled it around to the other side of the counter, sitting down. Sipping his own cup of coffee, he nodded. "That says it all, doesn't it?"  
  
"Dad likes baseball. So do I." Well, a little randomness never hurt anyone, she figured, even adding a small shrug to go along with her thought. "But college football is cool."  
  
"So you said," he told her slowly. He paused and waited for her to take another swallow of coffee before he decided to hit upon the most obvious question. "How much did you have to drink tonight, Ana?"  
  
Her mouth opened before it shut, and opened again. One hand came into view as she started to tick numbers off of her fingers, hoping that he wouldn't be able to tell if she was lying. "Well, when we got there, my friend got us some beer. And when I finished that one, some guy gave me another, and...I know I had one on the porch, because I had a cigarette and you can't smoke inside." She stopped and looked at him, a little panicked. "Please, don't tell Dad. He'll kill me, and he knows what to do with dead bodies. Oh, wait, you already knew that. But I'm not supposed to smoke anymore. I'm supposed to quit now. I only smoke when I'm drinking, now. But I don't remember how many beer I had. Or is it beers?"  
  
Nick decided to pass on the grammar lesson, feeling sorry for the girl in front of him. The coffee didn't seem to be sobering her up any, and he could just imagine what Grissom's reaction was going to be when he got the girl home. He could only hope that he was still doing paperwork, so that Anastasia could go up to her room and sleep off the alcohol she had consumed. He wasn't too sure about the hangover that she was bound to have the next morning, though. "All right, we've established that you had too much to drink. And I won't tell Grissom about you smoking." What in the hell was he getting himself into, his mind screamed at him. "Are you almost done your coffee?"  
  
"Uh huh," she said with a nod, before pushing the mug away from her. "You make good coffee. But I've got to go home now. I don't want any more coffee. It's making me sick."  
  
With a wry smile, he stood up and picked up his keys again. He extended a hand, which she gratefully took to get off of the high stool. "Come on, let's get you home, then." 


End file.
